Keaton did not reply but felt her absence sharply as he listened to her footsteps across the stable yard cobbles. Carefully, he pivoted and guided the stallion to the stables, tracing his hand along the stone wall as a guide. The door was open, and the smell of straw and horse told him he had reached his destination. The sound of hay being forked and thrown told him a stablehand was at work in one of the stalls.
“I will unsaddle and brush him down,” he announced, receiving an acknowledgement from the lad before work resumed.
With ease, he took the horse to an empty stall and began going through the ritual of unsaddling and currying the animal. It allowed him to examine his thoughts, losing himself in the mindless routine.
His desire for Georgia was undeniable. He did not need to be able to see her to know that he was attracted to her. In fact, his blindness made that attraction even more powerful. He could imagine her beauty and embellish the evidence of his other senses so that she became a goddess in his imagination.
“Nephew,” Edric called out as he entered from a side door on the house’s side, “what is happening? Why were you riding?”
“Uncle, I did not expect you,” Keaton announced.
“I came to invite the two of you to Swinthorpe for dinner. Has something happened?”
“An accident on the road. We are unharmed individually.”
There was no trace of Georgia's perfume in the air, nor any sound of her. Keaton could have asked his uncle if she were still within earshot, but his pride in his own skills would not allow it.
“Individually?” Edric asked in confusion.
“I fear as a married couple, we may have suffered a mortal blow.”
CHAPTER 11
“Aletter for you, Your Grace,” a maid said as Georgia entered the house.
She was dusting the pictures hanging in the hall, curtsied and pointed to the table beside the door, upon which was a silver tray. Georgia smiled her thanks. Picking up the letter, she recognized her cousin's handwriting.
“It is from my cousin Amelia. Oh, how lovely, I shall look forward to reading that,” Georgia smiled to herself.
The maid beamed brighter and nodded politely. The door was still open behind Georgia, and she heard Keaton conversing with his uncle.
I should go out and become acquainted with Lord Swinthorpe, but I do not have the heart for it. I shall pretend I did not know he was there.
But their words reached her on a trick of the shifting breeze.
“I fear as a married couple, we may have suffered a mortal blow.”
Georgia froze. She stood just inside the door and could not be seen from the outside.
“That might be for the best. To end this farce and send the girl back to her Aunt and Uncle before extricating yourself becomes more… difficult.”
“How could it become more difficult?”
“Once the marriage is consummated, divorce is the only escape.”
They were coming closer, and she didn’t dare remain where she was. The conversation had the sound of a good-natured agreement. Keaton was not shouting his uncle down or arguing. Georgia's stomach clenched.
Am I to be returned in shame to my Aunt and Uncle? They will be unbearable! And perhaps still determined to marry me off to Lord Emsworth…
Despair gripped her. She thought of life returning to the normality that she had known before coming into the Duke's orbit. It was desperate, but the notion of never seeing him again or even discovering that he had married another sent her into fits of utter despair.
Why do I care? He is handsome and exciting, but he is also difficult, arrogant, and prickly. I cannot speak without causing offense and cannot move without putting a foot wrong. He needs a meek wife who will be obedient and speak when spoken to. That is not me!
“That is not me!” she whispered fiercely.
“Begging your pardon, Your Grace?” the maid said, startled.
“Just talking to myself. It's Molly, isn't it?” Georgia asked.
